by Julia Mills
Flashes of people and places from his past were happening with more frequency and much more detail. Sometimes even a name or a phrase would float through his mind at the same time. There was no doubt he was getting better. Now, all he had to do was figure out how he had ended up in the frozen north. Both man and dragon were absolutely sure they had inhabited a much warmer climate before being locked away in what Elsa kept calling their ‘silver coffin’.
Smiling, he reached over the rails surrounding the calves’ pen and grabbed the milking stool since it looked like he was going to be waiting for a while. “So, how do you guys like living in all this snow?” He asked the reindeer, amused by the way they tilted their heads to the side, hanging on his every word.
The little female wrinkled her nose and grunted to which he snickered, “Yeah, I know, I sound funny.” Quinn rubbed his throat. “Hazards of the job.”
He remembered why it was low and scratchy and sometimes nonexistent. The battle had been bloody. Many of his brethren had been lost. It had taken days for he, Drago and Kyran to round up the lads after they’d chased the wizards across hill and dale, only to not even get a night’s rest before heading out to the Forest of the Dead to save a small clan of young dragons from hunters and even more wizards.
Jumping to his feet, ecstatic he’d not only remembered their names but also their faces, Quinn looked around for someone to share his good news then quickly remembered he was alone with the twin reindeer. “Well, you guys will have to do.” He sat back down, patted their heads and continued, “I remembered two of my closest friends, the men I fought beside before I even knew how to truly swing a blade.”
The vison became clearer, like a movie playing in his mind. He could see Kyran and Drago riding ahead, backs straight, shoulders back, battle stances if he’d ever seen them. To his right rode…he searched for the name of the Guardsman with long blonde hair and a gleam in his eye. All it took was a wink and the name Kayne instantly rang out.
A grumbled, “These bastards are really being to get under my skin,” from the opposite side had Quinn’s head swiveling in the memory, as well as, real life.
He chuckled out loud, immediately remembering Maddox, one of the oldest among them who’d been a grump from the day he was born…
“Doesn’t everything get under your skin these days, Doxie, old boy?” Kayne teased, only making the mad dragon’s frown deepen.
“Just hunters, wizards and you, Kayne…always you,” Maddox gave as close to a chuckle as he ever did and shook his head while the demi-god and Quinn barked with laughter. Kayne was the son of Lugh the Celtic God of the Sun and the most irreverent of all the Guardsmen. He always had a joke or a wisecrack or was playing a prank on one of his brethren and knew no boundaries not even with the oldest and grumpiest among them.
Continual banter and good-hearted ribbing kept the Guardsmen’s minds off what they were riding into for almost an hour but then their commander, Drago, also known as the Assassin, spoke directly into their minds, “That’s enough, lads. The battle is just over that ridge. Orion, Atticus, Angus and Uther are coming in from the north. This clan has been holding their own for three days against the enemy, only today were they able to break through the wizards’ web of black magic and get a message to us.”
The Commander paused as the familiar ‘buzz’ of another speaking to him through mindspeak invaded his orders. Riding in silence, the Guardsmen mentally prepared for what was sure to come. Quinn could feel the tension thrumming through his brethren. The adrenalin surging as they prepared to defend not only their kinsmen but their way of life.
“Orion and Angus have taken their positions on either side of the ridge atop that huge rock formation just outside the Forest of the Dead. Their bows are cocked, arrows ready to fly. Uther and Atticus are on the opposite side of the clan’s lair. From what they can see it’s not only wizards but the bloody hunters, as well. It’s just the kind of fight we like, lads, we’re outnumbered at least seven to one.”
A roar of ‘Hell yeah’ filled their mindspeak as each man and dragon readied for the battle. The Assassin added, “Tie your horses inside the tree line. Kyran and I will take the lead. Maddox and Kayne go left, Quinn straight through the forest and up the right side.”
“Aye,” came the Guardsmen’s answers in unison as they rode into the dark cover of the Forest of the Dead, dismounted and tied up their mounts in silence. With a nod to one another, the dragons took to the ground, running at top speed, straight into the heart of the battle.
The stench of burnt flesh and foul magic filled the air. Quinn could barely see through the smoke filling the air and used his enhanced senses to guide him to the enemy. A flash of light burst mere inches from his head. The Guardsman swung his long sword, easily decapitating the wizard before spinning to the left to block a blow from the black-clad hunter.
Clashing blades with the enemy, Quinn listened to the sounds of his brethren doing the same. Their mindspeak was wide open, each giving an account of what they saw and the constantly dwindling numbers of the enemy. Forcing his opponent to block a harsh down swing, the Guardsman stabbed the hunter in the side with the dagger he had ready in his other hand, tearing the bastard open from waist to armpit and sneering as the zealot hit the ground.
The clang of metal on metal had Quinn spinning to the rear, both blades at the ready only to find his mentor and long-time friend of his father, Samuel, battling a wizard and a hunter simultaneously. Moving to assist, the younger Guardsman couldn’t help but be in awe of the man who had taken him under his wing when Quinn’s own father was cut down in the prime of his life by the same foe the dragons were still fighting to exterminate.
A single nod was the only recognition he received before stepping into the fight, putting his back to Samuel’s’ and battling not only those two zealots but six others before breaking apart to continue the fight in opposite directions. As the combat raged on, the Guardsmen continued their brutal assault, equalizing the numbers either by blood or terror. Quinn grinned to himself every time Angus and Orion’s war cry sounded in his mind, for he knew his brethren had shot down an enemy deserter as the coward ran in fear.
Hours of battle later, Quinn was pulling his bloodied blade from a rather large and skillful wizard he’d had quite the time defeating when a blast exploded behind him immediately followed by Drago’s bellowed, “Samuel!”
Moving in unison, the Guardsmen turned and ran towards their friend and brother, not believing the scene unfolding before their eyes. Both Quinn and his dragon roared as they watched the man who’d been like a father to them both was caught between two wizards with a hunter at each of their backs. Balls of evil magic left trails of soldering stench as one after another they beat at the mighty Guardsman, driving him to knees a mere second before Quinn and Kyran flew at the wizards, beheading the bastards before the dragons’ feet hit the ground.
Quinn, Kyran, and Drago formed a circle around Samuel’s unmoving body as the two hunters who had been guarding the wizards were joined by twenty of their comrades who had been waiting in the wings. Thankfully, Kayne, Maddox, Uther and Atticus dispatched the foe they were fighting and immediately entered the fray.
Rage fueled their every movement as they fought in unison, one well-trained unit, laying waste to the enemy in the name of their brother whose life they could feel was hanging in the balance. As the last hunter fell and the Guardsmen looked for another ambush, it was Drago who finally made the call. “They are either dead or gone. Well done, lads.”
But Quinn did not agree with his Commander’s assessment as he turned and dropped to his knees beside Samuel. He could feel the slow, staggered beating of his mentor’s heart as if it were his own. Heard the rattle of his breath as it struggled to keep the great warrior alive.
Laying his hand on Samuel’s chest, he directed the healing magic of his dragon into his mentor but felt it pushed back, as the older Guardsman slowly opened his eyes and with a weak smile, whispered, “My boy.”
It was then Quinn could feel the toll the silver the wizards had driven into Samuel’s body with their bloody dark magic had already taken on the man and his beast. Looking at his brethren, he bellowed, “Help him! Get down here and help him!”
Drago laid his hand on Quinn’s shoulder as he knelt beside him. “He’s too far gone, Quinn. The silver has reached his heart.” The Assassin pointed to just above Samuel’s body at the ethereal image of a proud emerald green dragon soaring through the sky. “His dragon is saying his final farewell,” Drago bowed his head, “And so must we all.”
The rest of that day and night and the next, when they said their goodbyes to Samuel and watched until his body was reduced to the ashes from whence it came flew through Quinn’s mind as if on fast forward. The memories could not come fast enough. Now that the recollections had begun, he was reliving his life in its entirety in a matter of a few hours.
Needing a break, Quinn pushed himself from his memories back into the reality of the moment and glanced at the large round wall clock that hung above the side door. “Three hours? I’ve been sitting here for three hours?” He asked the reindeer, who had apparently grown tired of his inactivity and were huddled together on their thick pallet of blankets in the far corner of the pen.
Bursting at the seams to tell Elsa what he’d remembered, Quinn decided to take his chances and head to the house. He knew she was as anxious for him to get his memory back as he was. Slipping his woolen sock covered feet into Donovan’s Wellies rainboots that were thankfully only a tad too tight, the Guardsman headed out in the cold darkness of the midafternoon.
The hoot of a snowy owl sounded from the huge birch tree at his back followed by the call of a falcon overhead. It was funny the things that were racing to be remembered, like the time Maddox had gone on what they all called the ‘mad dragon’s walk-about’ and had come back talking about the Peregrine Falcons that lived in the Arctic Tundra. The old dragon talked about how beautiful and fierce they were. Doxie even told the tale of a mated pair trying to battle his dragon as they all flew over the mountains. Quinn imagined what it would be like to call forth his dragon, have Elsa climb on his back and take her for a ride. He somehow knew she’d never had a dragon’s eyes view of her homeland. Walking up to the kitchen door, the Guardsman heard raised voices, immediately recognizing Elsa’s and pausing with his hand on the knob to listen.
“No way, Auntie Geneva. There’s just no way you’re taking Ivey with you. Mom may not be willing to stand up to you without Dad here but I damn sure am.”
“Oh Dearie, it’s only for a few weeks. I simply want our little wallflower to get out and learn a bit of our family history.” He could hear the condescension dripping from the woman’s words, her attempt at deception was poor at best. “I did, after all, miss out on taking Mona and Harmony and now they are just…well, shall we say past their prime.”
The nasally pitch and creepy undertone of Auntie Geneva’s voice sounded familiar. It made Quinn’s dragon perk up and give a growl low in his throat. Taking his hand off the door and heading to the large picture window facing the mountain range on the far side of the house, Quinn used his enhanced hearing to keep up as the lively debate continued.
“How does age have anything to do with family history?” Elsa asked with a scoff.
“Now, Elsa, honey, calm down. Your Auntie Geneva is only suggesting…” Carolyn’s words were cut off as the usual, at least from what he’d seen, Ivey cried, “That I leave my home and go with…with…with her for three whole weeks.” She ended with a sob.
Quinn could feel Elsa’s anger spike and raced around the corner of the house just as she growled, “You’ll not be going anywhere,” and got to the window just in time to see her wrap her arm around her sister and pull Ivey close.
Looking to the woman dressed from head to toe in black, with short black hair and severe bangs that only accentuated her sallow, pale complexion and beady, black eyes, Quinn and his beast both growled as her deep red lips moved and she took a threatening step forward. “It is not your decision, little one. I am the matriarch of the O’Leary Troupe, twelfth removed from the Queen herself and as such, you, little one, will give me the respect I am due.”
Memories like shots fired from a cannon burst into Quinn’s mind as the words spewed from the older elf’s mouth. Unable to hold back, he pointed at Auntie Geneva and roared, rattling the windows of the cottage. “It was you! You were the one that led the spell! You haggard, treacherous bitch, you locked us away!”
Chapter Six
“Get the hell away from my mate!” The Guardsman continued to bellow as he ran towards the front of the house, grizzly images of the night he and his brethren had been magically drugged and locked away in bespelled boxes ripping through his mind. He remembered spending hours drifting in and out of consciousness, only seeing cloaked figures and hearing their ominous chant. It was not until Quinn laid eyes on Auntie Geneva that the memories of that fateful night came flooding back.
Reaching the front porch at precisely the same time that the huge red door of the cottage burst open, the Guardsman barely had time to swerve or be knocked on his ass as a noxious cloud of inky black magic catapulted into the snow-covered night. A cackle echoed through the air as leathery, black wings filled the sky and the poisonous smog transformed into the body of Elsa’s aunt, immediately disappearing over the mountain ridge.
Still unable to call forth his dragon, Quinn chased the evil elf’s shadow until he could go no farther with Elsa screaming behind him the entire way. “Quinn! Oh my Goddess, are you okay! What the hell?”
As soon as she arrived to the spot where he’d fallen to his knees too furious to continue and still getting back up to speed, his little elf’s hands touched his face, his arms, his hands, she even ran her fingers through his hair to be sure he hadn’t suffered any injuries. Quinn’s eyes slid shut at the feel of her skin upon his.
Lost to the sensation, the Guardsman’s eyes flew open and he gave a startled, “Ow!” as Elsa slugged him in the arm and scolded, “What were you thinking?”
“Well, I was…”
“You were what?” She ranted, throwing her hands in the air as she paced in front for him. “You were thinking maybe you get yourself killed? You were thinking you’d like to go back into your silver coffin?” Finally stopping, Elsa slammed her fists to her hips, narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “You weren’t thinking. You were running off half-cocked trying to get yourself killed. That’s what you were doing.”
Unsure which question to answer first and loving the way his elf looked when she was all fired up, Quinn did the first thing that came to mind, he grabbed her by the arms, pulled her to his chest and slammed his lips to hers. A fiery tidal wave of passion burnt through his veins. Feelings he’d only heard others speak of, bloomed like the beautiful blossoms he remembered from the gardens of the lair of his youth.
Man and dragon felt the pieces of their souls, that for so long had been lost, slide into place. All was right with the world. He could die a happy man. Elsa was in his arms. Her fingers in his hair, her body pressed to his, her sweet moans of desire fueling his every movement as Quinn’s kiss marked the one the Universe had made for him.
Wanting…needing to touch and taste all of her, forgetting they were out in the open, knee deep in snow, the clouds of an impending blizzard brewing overhead, the Guardsman tore his lips from hers and groaned in frustration as the giggles and taunts of Elsa’s sisters grew louder accompanied by their crunching footsteps in the frozen snow. The elf squirmed out of his arms and ran towards the cottage, calling over her shoulder with a chuckle, “Hurry up, Quinn. Mom’s already gonna kick your butt for getting your only set of clothes wet.”
Heaving a sigh as he rose to his feet, the Guardsman could only smile as three of Elsa’s sisters stood in wait as he trudged towards the house. Sure enough, Carolyn was waiting just inside the front door shaking her head with a frown on her face. “What did you think you
were doing? You’ll catch your death.”
Sick of having his intentions questioned, Quinn stopped, took a deep breath and using all the control he could muster growled through gritted teeth, “I was trying to catch the evil bitch who led the spell that locked my brethren and I away in silver coffins for…for…oh hell, I don’t even know for how long because I don’t know what year it is.”
The elves all stared at him with their mouths hanging open and their eyes as large as saucers. He knew he was scaring them and knew that after he calmed down he would feel bad for it, but at the moment he was shaking with rage, had their attention and was going to get some answers.
He wasn’t really mad at the O’Learys. Couldn’t be. It wasn’t their fault Auntie Geneva was an evil elf practicing black magic and more importantly, they had saved his life. No, he wasn’t upset with them and needed to make sure they knew that.
Taking another deep breath and trying not to growl this time, he asked, “Can we go inside and talk about all of this where it’s a bit warmer?”
The words were barely out of his mouth before Elsa appeared at his side, grabbed his hand and smiled, “Of course we can.”
Leaning his head down as she pulled him up the step, Quinn whispered, “Why are they all just standing and staring?”
Holding back a laugh, she answered, “Because you ripped the seat of your pants.” She stopped speaking to giggle before adding, “And your mooning them all.”
Dropping her hands, the Guardsman whipped his hands behind his back and covered the huge hole that was showcasing his butt for all to see. Grabbing the towel Olivia was holding out when he crossed the threshold, Quinn wrapped it around his waist and promptly took a seat on the couch while Elsa’s sisters filed in.
The door was barely closed when the room erupted in laughter. The Guardsman tried to remain stoic, holding on to his anger, but in the end, couldn’t help but laugh along. He’d been so wrapped up in catching Geneva and then kissing Elsa that he hadn’t realized he’d had a wardrobe malfunction somewhere along the way.
